


Their Night

by StregataDalloStregatto



Series: Demetra's Ballad [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Pre Desk Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StregataDalloStregatto/pseuds/StregataDalloStregatto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had great plans. She had the negligee. Now, she has a fever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Their Night

**Author's Note:**

> If you like Dragon Age stuff and fantasy things, here is
> 
> [my Tumbrl](http://stregatadallostregatto.tumblr.com/) .

She couldn’t stop her sobs. She simply couldn’t.

“Modest in temper, bold in deed, disaster in important moments!” she thought, winding up on her bed and shaking despite the fire in the fireplace.

Hiding her flushed face between her hands, fervently wanting to slide more under the covers, Demetra Trevelyan knew that she was in a pitiable state. Eyes swollen and reddened, a unhealthy paleness, hair damp and pasted to her face and her sweaty neck.

And his presence didn’t help her to calm dawn.

Not at all.

Because that wasn’t the way that the evening was supposed to go.

“Dem, please, speak with me.” Cullen pleaded once again, tenderly moved a strand of hair away, trying to see her face.

“Please.” he repeated, grabbing softly her hand, and she felt even worse sensing his genuine concern.

“I’m fine, I… I’m just…” she tried to speak, ignoring the pang of pain which split her head in two.

Cullen, knelt on the rug near her bed, caressed carefully her warm forehead, his hand’s skin delightfully cool against her. 

To be perfectly honest, being skin against skin was exactly what the Inquisitor wished when she sent an invitation to her Commander for a late dinner together, in her quarters.

And yes, _maybe_ she could have thought about lying sweaty and flushed on her bed, with Cullen near her. But not with her body boiling for a damned fever and surely not with perspiring hair and a runny nose!

The Commander grabbed a cup of water “Would you like to drink a little? The healer said that you must stay hydrated. Maker’s breath, you’re burning.” he added, rolling up better the covers around her shoulders.

“No, I… I’m fine, really. I don’t need drinking, right now.” she croaked, refusing the water, but searching his hands and trying to stop her brain - _her damned, sadistic brain_ \- from thinking about how that powerful, big hands could be on her body. 

Without covers between them.

Rubbing absently her upper body, unaware of her skittish and totally inopportune thoughts, Cullen muttered “Maker, I’m so useless. You’re in pain and I can just stay here, offering you some water.”

“Stop, Cullen. It’s just a little fever,” Demetra mumbled, observing their hands interweaved together, while her tears were falling along her full cheeks, despite her efforts for stopping them “I’ll be fine.”.

Cullen shook his head skeptically, kissing her knuckles “But you’re crying, Dem. And I saw you crying just once more.”.

She turned on her side better, facing him “I like a lot when you call me with that cute nickname. And I’m not sad because I’m ill. I had… different plans for this evening.”.

Cullen smiled tenderly and nodded “Our dinner together. I was impatient too to be alone with you. But it’s not a problem.” he added quickly, kissing again her fingers “We can just organize another date, right?”

“Right.” she muttered, avoiding his eyes. He couldn’t have known about her special lingerie - _a shamefully expensive royal blue set, directly from Val Royeaux_ -, or the special dinner with some famous Fereldan foods and the special Ostwick Lover’s Cake or the speech that she had prepared.

Because now she felt ready. Confident. _Loved_.

She really wished asking him to stay with her, that night, in her bed. 

She really wanted to ask him to make love with her.

She really needed making love with him.

Their kisses were becoming more and more passionate, followed by shy touches - _hers_ \- and confident assaults to her senses - _him_. 

But Cullen had never crossed the line. Ever. Or pushed her. He was patient, tender even in his passion, careful to make her feel comfortable, despite his body betrayed his longing.

And with their lifes full of duties and battles and long weeks far from each other, she swallowed her fears - _the first time, naked, her body completely naked, his eyes on her completely naked body, her lack of experience, his beyond doubt abundance of experience_ \- and she organized her… _their_ special dinner.

Demetra wanted to tell him how much she loved him, how much she _felt_ loved, that she trusted him totally and that’d be a honor sharing this experience with him. 

And now, all was ruined. 

Maybe was the fever, maybe the searing disappointment, but she couldn’t console herself, not even thinking that after all he was right. The Inquisitor could surely organized another dinner. But for now, all was gone and she was so embittered. No, better: she was pissed off.

Why her body couldn’t betray her during one of the endless meeting with some unpleasant nobles? Or during one of etiquette lessons that Vivienne gave her, in preparation of the damned Empress’s Ball? Or just during a fucking normal day?

“Dem?”. 

His wonderful voice stopped sweetly her thoughts.

She looked at him, a stunning man, a clever one, a great Commander, a good person, so little aware to be one of the better man she had ever met, and the words left her lips of their own accord “I wanted to ask you to stay with me, tonight. After our dinner. I wanted to make love with you, Cullen.”.

Cullen was clearly dismayed and Demetra felt a cold shiver along her back “It wouldn’t be an obbligation! I mean… of course you could have refused, really! But… but I wanted you to know how much I care for you and how much I… I love you.”. 

Demetra wasn’t shocked by her admission, even if that was the first time that she allowed herself to think clearly about her feelings. 

She was pretty calm. Because she said the truth.

_SHE loved him._

_She LOVED him._

_She loved HIM._

Cullen stared her and Demetra blushed “I know that this isn’t the best declaration of love of all time, but…”. 

Cullen seemed frozen on his kneels.

Her heart contracted a little. Was it possibile that she made a mistake, misinterpreting their relationship? Maybe was too early for saying that words? Or maybe she embarassed him?

“Cullen, please, say something.” she whispered, trying to conceal her fear.

He didn’t.

Instead, he kissed her. 

Despite her devastated appearance, despite her sweaty skin, despite her reddened eyes, Cullen kissed Demetra holding her face between his powerful hands as if his life depended on it.

And despite her weakness, she kissed him hard as much he did, sinking her fingers in his shirt, blessing the Maker that her Commander, for once, was out of his armor. Her head spinned, maybe for the fever, more probably for his hands around her shoulders that hold her body against his chest, while his lips were sucking, sweet and demanding, and his tongue met hers in a slow dance.

“Please, say it again.” he breathed against her lips “Please.”

“I love you, Cullen. I love you. I love you!” she panted smiling, while her Commander hugged her, kissed her dotting her words with his lips on her skin.

He looked her in the eyes, a golden gaze full of pure joy, desire and… 

“I love you too, Demetra.”

… and love. So many love, all for her, _for them_!

Demetra wanted to cry again, tears of joy and relief, instead she grabbed him and nuzzled tenderly against his cheek, smiling “Say it again.”.

And he did. Many and many times. 

Despite the fever, that night Demetra slept serene, held in Cullen’s arms, both of them cradled by their words, still in the air, all around them.

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, comments, you that chose to read this... THANK YOU!


End file.
